


Rivers and roads

by clarklexahs



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Anger, Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3534053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarklexahs/pseuds/clarklexahs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 2x15 and the fall of Mount Weather, Clarke runs into Lexa. Inspired by a Tumblr post.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivers and roads

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fic so I hope its alright!

On the Ark, Clarke never thirsted for the sun. Partially for the fact that it was, well, there, all the time, and also because the majesties of space meant little to one who was born in it. Just like on the ground, one may not always appreciate the many curling arms of a tree or the screams and shouts of vibrant shades of green. Windows on the Ark were few and far between but when she did get the opportunity to look outside one her gaze was always trained on the earth. The sun, and any stars decorating the black velvet of the atmosphere, were an afterthought.

Clouds, however, were something less familiar to Clarke. She often saw their frothy white spirals spilling over the contents of the earth but she hardly registered what they were, just accepted them as another element of the ground she would never experience.

But Clarke quickly learned that clouds hid the sun, brought rain and dreary afternoons and complaints from the Sky people who weren’t used to having an involuntary shower in the middle of the day. Whenever they stuck around, she found herself longing to see that yellow orb dancing in the sky, reminding her of a time before the dystopian tendencies of The Ark made themselves known to her and she was thrown to earth.

Trailing through the forest now, Clarke found her bitter mood swelling with every step. Today, the clouds in the sky only made her feel worse. She was cautious and tense, seeing as the alliance with the Grounders no longer stood. The forest was the easiest place to get speared after all, but she knew Lexa didn’t have the guts to chase her off their territory after what she did. Thoughts of the Commander caused her to dig her fingernails into her palms, drawing tiny crescents of blood. She was still, to put it simply, extremely pissed off about the whole ordeal. She knew that to have such bitter thoughts were useless, she knew deep down she understood Lexa’s decision, and the anger was just a way to cover up the hurt she felt.

Not having the alliance was proving to have it’s downsides, the Grounders were a useful ally in all things earth related, but Clarke knew they could get on just fine without them, so long as they weren’t out to kill them like before. Again, she knew Lexa didn’t have any means to pursue her and her people. The thought brought along a huff of triumph as she kicked over a stone, reveling in the bitter thoughts that left her seething in her bed after a restless sleep, when she couldn’t figure out the most simple question: _Why?_

Oh, she knew why. But all the same, Clarke was tortured by that stupid question. _Why?_

Sighing, she trudging through the undergrowth, making her way towards the river to fill her almost empty canteen that she had brought along. She wasn’t really sure why she was even out here, maybe it was to test the limits of the shattered alliance, or to just clear her head. All she knew was she couldn’t spend another moment in the camp. Most of the Sky people were busy scouting other areas, those uninhabited by the Grounders that they could claim, so they hardly paid attention to her. Her mother was more focused on restoring the health of those who had suffered the bone marrow treatments at Mount Weather and still weren’t up to full strength. This was one of the rare times her mother didn’t worry about her whereabouts.

As she approached the river, listening to its whispers among the rocks, she bent down and splashed water on her face, removing the grime and what would probably always feel like the sensation of blood freckling her skin. The icy coldness of the water jolted her awake and she wiped her face free of droplets, proceeding to then fill up her canteen. She then took a long swig of water, thankful for the feeling of ice in her throat, wiping her lips with a sigh as she crouched by the river bed. She poked her hands into the water and felt them go numb as the river curved around her fingers, kissing them cold. She was enjoying the subtle numbness when she tensed at the sound of footsteps. They were light, stealthy, and she probably wouldn’t have heard if for the fact that there were rocks all around that could cause a person to take a misleading step. Also, Lexa had fortunately taught her how to pick up the sounds of such a stealthy approach.

Feeling for her gun, she stood and pointed the nose of the gun at the intruder. She sucked in a breath, felt her lungs collapse in on themselves, as she found herself facing the Commander. She was in her usual get up, armor and all, the black charcoal bleeding down her cheeks. She looked as she had the last time Clarke saw her, minus the blood on her face. She seemed to have fewer braids in place so that some of her dark hair laid across her shoulders in wavy strands. Clarke tried to ignore it. She looked slightly startled, but her stoic facade returned in mere seconds as she traced her fingers along the hilt of her sword. Clarke gritted her teeth as she watched her do so.

“Hello…. Clarke of the Sky People,” she greeted in a light monotone, as was her formal way of greeting. It made Clarke livid.

“What are you doing here?” she snarled, stashing away the gun and turning to cap her canteen. When she turned to face Lexa again, her arms were at her sides, no longer comforting the sword at her flank, and she looked almost…. vulnerable.

“I’m just exercising my rights to go where I want… on my territory,” she added, a bit more icily.

“ _Your_ territory?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms. “The river shouldn’t be anyone’s territory, since we all sort of need it,” she grunted, piercing Lexa’s green eyes with her own gunmetal blue ones.

Lexa seemed to soften a bit there, seemed to come undone in the slightest. Perhaps she still felt guilty about what she did, perhaps her heart was alight in her chest, anxiety pulsating through her blood at the prospect of this conversation. The thought made Clarke smug. The thought of the fearless Commander writhing in agony over what she did was satisfying in a twisted, painful sort of way. A way Clarke didn’t want to feel, but the only way she could feel if she was going to overcome her emotions.

“Yes… I suppose you’re right. I wish not to fight over territory, especially since it wouldn’t be very fair,” Lexa said, clearing her throat as she stepped a bit closer to the river.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked, narrowing her eyes. She noticed Lexa wasn’t being followed by a guard, leaving her to assume the Commander had slipped away unnoticed or requested some time alone. While not exactly rare of her, it still made Clarke suspicious in the slightest.

“Just that my army could take yours down before you even realized what was happening,” Lexa said softly, the smallest hint of a smile dancing on her lips.

_No. You don’t get to play that game,_ Clarke thought angrily, strengthening her glare. Any trace of playful emotion fled Lexa’s face as if it had never been there at all.

“Don’t forget, we’re the ones with the guns,” she grumbled as Lexa stepped towards the water and knelt down to wave her hand through the current, as though petting it, retaliating a little at the unexpected coldness.

“Yes. That is true.”

An awkward silence formed then. Clarke wanted to say so much, she wanted to scream obscenities at Lexa, hurt her, feel some sort of satisfaction in revenge. But she knew she couldn’t do that, because she understood Lexa’s choice all too well. The sacrifices you made as a leader.

“We got my people out, if you were wondering how that went. Some of them died, no thanks to you.”

Lexa shot her a look, a look that spoke too loudly. Clarke realized then that she never truly considered how hard it might’ve been for Lexa to betray her. After all, it was never her intention. She said she cared.

She stared at her for a minute, penetrating her with sad green eyes before she finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Clarke,” she murmured, slowly standing.

“Sorry won’t bring back the dead,” Clarke replied, looking away towards the moving water. Her blood was boiling slightly at the thought of the heated argument they should be having, but weren’t because Clarke’s head was winning out. Her heart was broken and betrayed, but in her head she understood the logic behind it all. It frustrated her.

Biting her tongue, she looked toward Lexa again, traced the bleeding war paint with her eyes, traced the contours of her face, her lips, her nose, her jaw. The familiar heat of anger rushed up as she stepped closer to the Commander, who looked up in surprise. She stared at the paint clouding her eyes, that _fucking_ war paint. The mask she hid behind to conceal her emotions, the part she played to ensure there was no doubt to her strength and ruthlessness. Because love was weakness, right? Emotion was weakness. _Clarke_ was weakness.

Without thought, she tore open her canteen and filled her palm with water, lifting her hand to Lexa’s face and beginning to smear the paint away. Lexa looked slightly startled, but didn’t move away, enduring the coldness of the water, the onslaught of Clarke’s rising emotions.

“Clarke…,” she began but Clarke cut her off, tears beginning to sting her eyes as she scrubbed gently at the paint, watching it tear down her face in thin rivulets.

“Just shut up, okay? Just shut the hell up,” she growled. Lexa didn’t say another word, allowing Clarke to wash it all away. She closed her eyes as Clarke stroked her eyelids to try and strip away the charcoal.The act was relaxing in an almost painful fashion as she wiped away the paint, revealing soft flesh, revealing human. Her fingers gradually became stained as she caressed her cheeks. The process wasn’t meant to be intimate in any way but Clarke found herself tracing her fingers along Lexa’s jaw, trailing them down her temples, destroying the shadow that was her mask, her cover up. The make-up hid what she so desperately longed to see, and that was her humanity. She wanted to see Lexa, not the Commander.

When she had done enough to be satisfied, she turned and washed the paint off her hands in the river, scrubbing a little harder than necessary, like when she was washing off blood. Lexa stood quietly behind her, rubbing her eyes a little. When Clarke turned around to face her, she felt less angry, the sight of more human skin making Lexa seem more… real. Her green eyes seemed to stand out more against her skin, electric with barely contained emotion. Her next words betrayed the hold her mind had held on her tongue. 

“I could’ve loved you, Lexa,” she said suddenly, her eyes softening, revealing their anguish. Lexa’s eyes seemed to mirror her own.

“Which is part of why I did what I did. You’re a weakness Clarke… You’re my weakness. A weakness I can’t afford to have,” she murmured, slowly drawing her walls back up. But Clarke needed to see her feel, needed to see just a sliver of vulnerability. She needed it like air. Without thinking, she reached out and lightly grasped her hand. The Commander stiffened beneath her touch, but didn’t pull away.

“I understand why you did it. I don’t blame you for saving your people. I just… I just wanted you to trust someone.To just open up. To see that love isn’t weakness.” She knew her eyes were pleading but she couldn’t help herself.

Lexa glanced down at their fingers which were delicately intertwined. She pulled away gently, retreating back into her protective shell, shutting down. She looked at Clarke, quiet for a moment, before drawing in what looked like a shaky breath.

“I did,” was all she said. She stood for a moment longer, before spinning on her heel and walking away before her heart could betray her anymore, leaving Clarke alone with both a sense of solace and anguish, unable to see the few rebellious tears that escaped the Commander’s eyes and fled down her bare cheeks as the first few droplets of rain spilled from the sky.


End file.
